Pasha's Problem
by EnjolrasForever
Summary: Pasha mistakes flirting for bullying, and Scotty helps him get over his confusion about sexuality. M/M
1. Chapter 1

"Oh, look how cute he is," a rather tipsy girl giggled to her friend behind her hand. Her drunken attempt to maintain the privacy of her conversation was not particularly effective, of course, and what she had said had been clearly audible to Pavel, but he shook off the feeling of having been condescended to, and strode past the silly creatures. He was well used to these degradations. It had been made clear to Pavel, over the past several years, that most of Star Fleet thought of him as a child. And, when they'd had a few drinks in them, they weren't afraid to say it. That was why Pavel did not like to go to after-work parties. If he ever neared a bar, he would most certainly be humiliated. Still, it was Nyota's birthday today, and he wanted to make an appearance for her sake.

"Hey there, honey lamb," simpered a bleach-blonde woman of around 35 as Pavel made his way to the bar, wending through the crowd. He ignored her as he ignored all of the others. The young navigator absolutely refused to let the constant slough of insults affect him.

As Pavel neared the bar, a man in his late 20s sauntered up to him and smiled condescendingly, placing an unwelcome hand on the 17-year-old's shoulder. "Hiya, kid. You old enough to drink?" he slurred with a sleazy wink.

Pavel favored him with a cool glare and a "Yes" before he brushed the bothersome fellow off, and plopped down with relief onto a barstool. God. Since when had crossing a room become such an ordeal? Briefly, Pavel scanned the crowd for someone he knew. If he had someone to talk to, perhaps people would perceive him as too busy to be bothered with patronizing remarks.

To his utter relief, Chekov spied Mr. Scott sitting a few stools away. Pavel loved to talk to the Chief Engineer. He always proved an exemplary partner for an enlightening conversation. If one wished to discuss one's latest thoughts on advanced warp theory, black holes, or quantum leaps, all one needed to do was to find Mr. Scott. Pavel admired this genius of a man more than anyone else on the Enterprise. Most importantly, however, was that Mr. Scott never treated Pavel as a child. His colloquial "laddie"s or "boy-o"s never felt ill-meant to Pavel. In fact, when they came from Mr. Scott, they seemed like nothing less than terms of endearment. Eagerly, Pavel rose and sat in the stool next to his idol.

"May I join you, sir?" he asked tentatively, with a timid smile.

Scotty looked up from his drink, and glanced around for the source of the voice addressing him. When he saw young Pavel, he positively beamed.

"Why, hello there, laddie! Of course you may join me! Nyota is quite a popular lass. Nearly the entire crew turned out to celebrate! I do hope you are having a pleasant evening, Mr. Chekov."

Pavel grinned, all cares suddenly washed away by Mr. Scott's friendly greeting. "Of course, sir, I could not be better." _Then again…_ Pavel was suddenly seized with the feeling that he had been false, remembering his present state of distress. If there was anyone he trusted to confide in, it was Mr. Scott. And perhaps this man, intelligent as he was, would be able to give some helpful advice.

He hesitated a moment before he voiced his concerns, and Mr. Scott noticed. Something was wrong with Pavel. His focus sharpened, and he trained all his attention on Chekov. The ensign had something to say.

"Ectually, sir, vould it be alright if I asked your adwice?"

"Of course, lad, what's bothering ya?" replied Scotty, genuinely concerned. For Pavel, who was never seen as less than his bubbly self, this must be something of great concern.

"Vell, sir, I have been feeling… unappreciated, lately." Scotty nodded slowly, bidding Chekov to continue without interruption.

The young navigator squared his shoulders and took a steadying breath. "You see, zhe crew treats me as if I vere a child. I know zat I am only sewenteen, but I am a perfectly competent nawigator, and a professional, and I do not like zhe debasing remarks constantly flung my way!" Pavel checked himself, realizing he had raised his voice in his emotional fervor. "I am sorry, sir, I did not mean to shout."

"It's quite alright, lad." Scotty was extremely surprised to hear this news from Chekov. From what he had seen, most of the crew admired their youngest member. The worst sentiments present might only be jealousy of Pavel's precocity and genius status. He had never observed anyone intentionally debase the lad, a lad though he may be. The fact that Chekov felt this way, therefore, was something to be investigated.

"I am sorry to hear you've been having trouble, Mr. Chekov. Who, in particular, has been botherin' ya?"

"Oh, eweryone, sir. Mostly crew members I barely know! I cannot understand vhy zey vould judge me if zey do not know me!"

_People he doesn't know? That's odd._ "Well, what sorts a things do they say to ya? Are they openly cruel?"

Chekov thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No, sir. Zey are wery subtle. Zey do not come out right and say I do not belong here, but zey make me feel… unvelcome… all zhe same."

Scotty was astounded. He had never heard of such a thing in all his years in Star Fleet. Could it be that there was a concerted plot to bully the young ensign out of commission? Was it envy? What could possibly be the root of this problem? "Can ya give me an example, Chekov?"

"Vell, sir, just tonight, three people have said such things to me. Vhen zey are drunk, zey have more courage to say these things. Zat is vhy I do not _ewer_ come to zhe bar after my shift. But I _had_ to come to Nyota's party, you see, so…"

Chekov's story was becoming exceedingly strange. People he didn't know affronting him when they were drunk? It sounded almost as if… "Lad, what exactly do they say to you, word for word?"

"Just tonight, sir, one girl whispered to her friend zhat I vas "cute"! Anozer woman called me "honey lamb" – vhat even _is_ a "honey lamb"?! – and a man asked me if I vas old enough to drink! You see, zhey think I am a child, sir! I usually simply ignore zhem, sir, but it vas wery silly to ask if I could drink, so I replied to the man. "Yes," I said to him, because _of course_ I am old enough! And zhen I walked away. Honestly, eweryone knows a member of Starfleet can drink! If you are old enough to nawigate a starship, zhey say, you are definitely old enough to drink alcohol! I passed zhe A.E. vhen I vas 12 years old! Eweryone knows you can't be assigned to a Starfleet wessel as a minor! I – "

"Lad, lad! You're rambling! I know you're upset, but calm down." Yes. The situation was exactly as Scotty had thought. "And you passed the Adulthood Exam when you were_ twelve_, lad? Mercy…" Scotty shook his head in amazement. "But, in any case, it sounds to me as if you're overreacting to this situation."

Chekov' heart sank at the chastisement by Mr. Scott. To have his issues trivialized by someone he thought he could trust was unbearable. Perhaps Mr. Scott was right, though. Maybe he _was_ overreacting…

Scotty gave young Chekov a wide, knowing smile. "Lad, I know you're not going to want to hear this, but I think you've interpreted your dilemma incorrectly." Scotty gave an amused little chuckle, still reeling with disbelief at Chekov's blunder.

"Sir! Do not laugh at me!" cried the young chief navigator, distraught.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Scotty amended hurriedly. "It's just that – they don't think of ya as a child, Mr. Chekov. Far from it. When they call ya cutesy names it isn't because you're young… it's because they think you're… erm… desirable."

Chekov blinked blankly, brow furrowed in confusion. Scotty clarified.

"They're _flirting _with ya, lad. They don't think you're "cute" like "tribble cute", they think you're "_cute_", if ya know what I mean."

Pavel's eyes widened in understanding, and he flushed scarlet, all the way to the tips of his ears. "No, sir – zhat – zhat is not possible! I – zhat is – "

"Look, lad, no one on the Enterprise would ever want to get rid of ya. That's why I was so shocked when I heard you'd been bullied. You're a wonderful navigator and a huge asset to the crew. I would be amazed if anyone ever insinuated you were childlike – you're a perfectly mature adult. I'm not at all surprised, however, to hear you've been flirted with. To be perfectly honest, you're a very handsome young lad. None o' the lasses _or_ lads could possibly resist ya. You could take your pick."

Chekov reeled with this news. He had been flirted with? He was handsome? He was desirable? And Mr. Scott… did Mr. Scott think he was handsome, too?

It was not exactly surprising to Pavel that he had misinterpreted his situation. He knew himself well enough to know that, although he was extremely intelligent, he wasn't the best at picking up on social cues. Taking all of this into consideration, however, he decided he didn't much like being flirted with. These people did not know him. They looked only at the surface, never so much as bothering to ask his name before deciding that they wanted him. Pavel wasn't interested in a transient sexual relationship. He wanted to be loved and appreciated for who he was.

But Mr. Scott… _Mr. Scott_ had said he was handsome, too. He had said he could take his pick of the lasses _or_ lads. Did that include… Mr. Scott himself? If Mr. Scott, the man he admired and trusted above everyone else, decided that Pavel was desirable… Pavel did not think he would refuse him. No, he would accept any advances from Mr. Scott wholeheartedly.

Deep down, Pavel had known for a long time that he was falling in love with the Chief Engineer. There was no one with whom he would rather be, so he spent nearly all of his free time down on the engineering deck. He would lend a hand with whatever needed to be done, and would inevitably embroil himself in a deeply intellectual discussion over… how the warp core would react to various hazardous materials, or whatever else they might think of. Mr. Scott stimulated his mind. He was kind, and smart, and bright-souled, and his little mannerisms always melted Pavel's heart. And, though Pavel admittedly had a bit of an immaturity complex, he loved being called a "lad" by Mr. Scott. From him, it meant something special. Pavel absolutely adored the Chief Engineer's Scottish brogue, as well. Their accents were a barrier in communication that the two held in common. They had so much in common, really. If Mr. Scott could love him, thought Pavel, he would be the happiest man in the world.

"Lad, are you alright? You've been quiet for some time. I didn't mean to embarrass ya."

Pavel jumped, startled out of his introspection. He flushed even more deeply as the object of his thoughts smiled at him.

"Let me buy ya a drink. You deserve it after your emotional turmoil."

Pavel stood up, flustered. "Nyet, erm, no sir, thank you. I think I'll be going now." He practically sprinted out of the room towards his own quarters. He couldn't be around Mr. Scott just then. It was too much. All he could think of was his kindess, and his intelligence, and his handsome smile. He was handsome, wasn't he? Yes... And just then, as he gazed, startled, into Mr. Scott's smile, all Pavel had wanted was to kiss him senseless.

As the ensign entered his quarters, he instructed the computer to lock the door and to route the intercom to the bathroom if anyone rang. Then, he stripped hurriedly and stumbled into the shower. The pounding of the hot water over his head calmed him. Exhausted at the revelations of the day, he leaned his forehead on the still-cool tiles. His mind was spinning. He couldn't get Mr. Scott out of his head. He kept imagining that, instead of saying "they think you're desirable", he had said "_I_ desire you."

Guiltily, Pavel took himself in hand. As he stroked, he imagined the Chief Engineer whispering dirty things in his ear, calling him his "lad", and telling him he loved him. He imagined it was _his _hand stroking him, squeezing him. "Meester Scott," Pavel breathed as he felt himself nearing the edge. "Da, da, Meester Scott…Scotty… _Scotty_. Da!" He came with a strangled cry and sank to his knees, watching the cascading water wash away the evidence of his pleasure.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and Pavel heard the very voice he had been fantasizing about over the intercom. "Lad, are ya there? It's me, Scotty. Can I come in?"

Startled out of his afterglow, Chekov jumped up, turned off the shower, pressed the intercom button, and called, "Coming!" He scrambled get ready to answer the door.


	2. Chapter 2

As Scotty watched Chekov hurry out of the bar, his gut twisted with worry. He hadn't meant the lad any harm by telling him the truth. It was no secret to anyone (except Chekov, apparently) that just about every young lady on the ship pined after him. And lots of the young men, too. No one could deny that they had an urge to run their fingers through those darling blonde curls, and pinken that pretty, innocent face. It was Chekov's innocence, in spite of his precocity, that made him so desirable. Because Chekov was well versed in just about everything else, everyone wanted to be the person to instruct him in the single area in which he was inexperienced. If Mr. Scott was honest with himself, he was no exception. He'd been hankering after that lovely boy since first he clapped eyes on him. But, over time, he had come to want more from young Chekov than sex.

The lad was a genius. An absolute genius. There was no other word for it. Anyone who can pass the exam to become an adult by the age of 12, and become a senior navigator on a Federation vessel by the time he was 17 has to be something else. In all of the time they'd spent together on the engineering deck, Scotty had come to revel in the boy's conversation. Nowadays, he actively sought out Pavel's company, whether in the Mess at meals, or during an hour's free time. He valued the lad's company more than anyone else's. When he wasn't with him, especially when he was alone, his heart ached distractingly. He yearned to see Pavel's lively enthusiasm for his work and laugh at his obscure and nerdy jokes. He longed for his conversation, his new ideas, and his endearing struggle with the English language. Every time he saw Pavel frown, he wanted to kiss the frown off his face. He was far gone, he knew, but he would never force himself on someone so young, with such a bright future ahead of him. There were plenty of other young things around, Scotty knew, who would suit Pavel better. He was wrong for the lad, and that's all there was to it.

Still, Scotty was very concerned for his friend. After a while, he decided to go look for Pavel, and comfort him if he could. "Joey, can you lend me a bottle?" he asked the bartender. "It's for our distraught young friend."

"Sure thing, Scotty."

With bottle in hand, he sought Chekov in his quarters.


	3. Chapter 3

Pavel threw on the first clothes he could find, which ended up being a pair of navy and dark green plaid pajama pants and a white knit long-sleeved shirt his mother had sent him "to keep out the chill." She didn't know they weren't allowed to wear non-regulation clothes, even under their uniforms. Chekov wore it in his free time only. It reminded him of home.

When Pavel answered the door, his skin was damp and his curls wet near dripping, face flushed from embarrassment, the warmth of the shower, and the activity with which he had been occupying himself. With his collarbone bared by the scooped neck of his shirt, he looked an enticing young thing, all rose-tinged alabaster skin.

Mr. Scott smiled at the young navigator, momentarily at a loss for words. Regaining his composure, he held up the bottle in his hand and waggled it in front of Chekov's face. "Thought you could use a drink, lad." Nothing more needed be said.

As nervous and embarrassed as he was at the moment, there was something about Scotty that made Pavel feel more at ease. He felt that he could talk to this man, no matter the subject, and that Scotty would always be a faithful listener. He was actually very glad Mr. Scott was here.

Without another moment's hesitation, Pavel ushered in his guest and plopped down onto his small bed. As the only piece of furniture in the room, it acted as a couch, a chair and anything else Pavel needed it to be. The wall was as good a headrest as any. Chekov patted the place beside him, and Mr. Scott moved to join him.

"You thought right, sir. I could use a drink right now." Chekov gave a deep sigh, mortified and exhausted at all of the realizations of the last hour or so. He wearily leaned his head back against the wall. "I suppose I shall have to get up and fetch glasses now?"

"No need if you're not up to it. We'll swig from the bottle."

Chekov gave his friend a tired smile, absurdly grateful for his understanding. He was in an odd emotional state. At that moment, he felt as if he couldn't lift a finger. He lowered his head onto the bed, legs still hanging off the edge, and covered his face with his arm. All was right. It was dark and calm, now, and Scotty was there beside him. He could feel the body heat radiating from his companion. All was right.

Pavel heard Scotty open the bottle, and uncovered his face, propping himself up on an elbow. "Scotch?"

Scotty grinned. "The very best!"

"Zhis isn't exactly a "svigging" beverage, vouldn't you agree?"

Scotty swigged then, just to prove the boy wrong, grimacing as the alcohol burned down his throat. He chuckled. "You're the one too lazy to get up and get glasses." He held out the bottle, and Chekov took it with a shrug and a conceding smile.

As the ensign took his drink, the lieutenant commander began. "Mr. Chekov… I know what you discovered tonight would be shocking to anyone so young and… Well, what I mean to say is, I understand. But I cannae help but think there might be something else botherin' ya. It worries me to see ya like this, lad. You've been naught but happy and glowing all the time I've known ya, and I want ya to know that you can trust me, whatever it is."

Chekov paused, feeling the warmth of the Scotch spread down his throat and into his stomach. The life-drink gave him courage. It gave him hope.

"I do trust you Meester Scott. I – it's just that – you see, I never vanted zhis." Chekov gestured vaguely to himself.

"What, lad? What is it that you never wanted?"

"Just… all of this. It happens to all of us – every human child must become a human adult – but vhen it happened to me, I did not know… I no longer knew myself. All of a sudden I vas owercome with these… foreign… urges. It vas like zhey took ower my whole body, and vouldn't let me go." Chekov downed another sip of scotch.

Ah… So this was what this was about. Scotty felt truly sorry for his young friend's dilemma. He wanted to help him in any way he could. Still, considering how educated everyone in this society was about sex, it was very surprising to hear of Chekov's turmoil.

"I vanted to focus on my work – my work vas my life, Meester Scott. I vas a scientist, a mathematician, and a strategist. All I vanted was to train my body in zhe service of my mind, but my body vould not obey. Instead of spending my time devouring every physics textbook I could find, I began to spend my valuable time devouring trashy romance novels and, vhen I vas brave enough, a magazine… or two… The hours, at night, which I used to spend stimulating my mind with scholarly articles, calculus practice tests, and stargazing; I spent stimulating my… my body. Oh, god, I was – am – disgusted vith myself."

Chekov took another swig, sputtering slightly as the liquid burned its way down his throat. Scotty remained silent, listening to the young one's woes.

"It vas utterly confusing! Zhe part of me zhat vas _me_, my mind, did not _vant_ sex! Love, perhaps, but not just sex! As a person, I vanted success and love and happiness. As a human body, all I desired vas to sate my baser passions! I am _still_ confused Meester Scott! I am sewenteen years old and I do not know vhat to do with myself! I cannot live with these distracting urges! So I block people out! Zhe reason I do not notice what others' intentions are towards me is that I refuse to see zhem! I do not vant to give in to my mere instincts! I should be able to conquer them! I thought about asking Doctor McCoy for a pill to drown out my sexual impulses, but I did not vant to be drugged up during my shift. I – I do not know!"

Chekov took a mightily large draught of Scotch and, coughing, handed it over to Scotty, who was lost in thought, and amazed at these new discoveries.

Scotty drank, and was quiet for a very long while. "Lad… where did you go to school? Or should I say 'When?' You _do_ know that sex isn't a shameful thing, don't you?"

Pavel made a dismissive gesture. "Nyet, nyet. Nothing like that. I never said it vas _shameful_. Just zhat is vas useless. An abominable waste of my time zhat I vanted to do without."

"Well, first, lad, sex isn't useless. You know the practical usefulness of sex."

"Zat does not apply to me, sir, and never vill."

Scotty blushed, but cleared his throat and continued relatively unfazed. "And, second," he said insistently, "sex and love shouldn't be two separate entities. Sex is simply a physical manifestation of love. It's a way to show your feelings to your partner."

"How can you say zat? You know as well as I zat, more often zan not, sex exists without love, merely for zhe sake of pleasure. Just look at zhe Keptin, vhenever we land on a new planet. He is always kissing some pretty girl vith a halo around her head."

Scotty chuckled in mild concession. "Aye, but what's wrong with pleasure? Aren't the pleasurable moments in life the ones we cherish most?"

"Isn't zhat a little bit – how do you say – Hedonistic, Meester Scott? Fleeting pleasure is nowhere near as satisfying as emotional or goal fulfillment. It is better to be ambitious than to give in to one's urges. It is better to love from afar than to waste one's time vith an ephemeral sexual relationship. While zhe small pleasures of life vill end, your accomplishments vill live on."

"Nonsense, lad! Ya must have _balance_ in your life. Overindulgence never helped anyone, but ya cannae deny yourself one pleasure because ya think another has more value. How 'bout a wee bit of everything? Diversify! Why d'ya join Starfleet if not to experience every part of life, throughout the entire galaxy! Things like sex, food, and drink, for that matter," he said, gesturing ironically to the bottle of scotch, "are just as important to a human being as goal-fulfillment and healthy relationships. Why ever d'ya think ya have senses – touch, taste, smell, hearing, sight – if not to experience life through them? You're young! Go out and live life while ya can!"

Chekov sat up and watched the end of Scotty's passionate speech with a look of awe on his face. "I had never thought of zhat, sir… I… I did not realize zhat sensory pleasure vas an important part of life… I always viewed it as an illogical distraction…"

Scotty gave the boy a gentle smile, and said more quietly, "I'm sure Mr. Spock would agree with that statement." They both chuckled gently. "But a human being isn't logical. That's what makes us so interesting."

Pavel gave a satisfied sigh and flopped back down onto the bed, curling in his long limbs so as to be able to fit. They were silent for a long time. Scotty set the bottle down on the bedside table, situated at the head of the bed, and leaned back against the wall. He could hear Chekov's soft breathing beside him – could feel his warm, solid presence, and smell the shampoo in his still-damp hair.

"Sir?" the boy said gently, at last. "Thank you… for your adwice."

Scotty's heart melted at Pavel's sincere gratitude, and he was still genuinely sorry the lad had endured his confusion so long. "Any time, lad. Any time."

"Sir?" Pavel said again, more tentatively, slowly sitting up on his knees to face his idol. Pavel blushed deeply, and took a deep breath. "Maybe, sir, you could… show me… some time…"

Scotty was momentarily very confused. By the pretty blush and the demure fluttering of eyelashes, he could swear that Chekov was suggesting… Impossible. Not possible. Nope. Not a chance. But, _oh_, how hope swelled in his chest! "Lad, what are ya saying..?"

Chekov did not answer. Instead, he kissed his friend, quick as lighting, on the cheek. Scotty wasn't sure he would have known what it was if the boy hadn't immediately stuttered out an apology.

Eyes downcast, the boy babbled, "I am wery, wery sorry sir. I do not know vhat I vas thinking. Please, forget all about – "

Presently, however, the Russian found it particularly difficult to speak, because there was a mouth over his own, a hand cupping his cheek, and – oh – he was in heaven. Chekov returned Scotty's kiss with his usual energetic fervor, but Scotty pulled away after a moment, shaking his head. "No, no, ya don't want _me_, lad. You should go after some other pretty young thing, not a fat, short, balding old man. I'm so sorry I took advantage of your vulnerability. I hope ya can forgive me."

Scotty moved to leave, but Pavel tugged him frantically back down onto his bed. "Don't go, Meester Scott."

"I'm sorry, Pavel. Really, I didna want to hurt ya. I promise ya, ya don't have to feel awkward about it later. We're still friends. I understand how you were feelin' just then. I know you didna really mean it."

Pavel frowned rather fiercely and held Scotty in place with a firm grip on his arm, not allowing him to leave. "Nyet, you do not know how I feel." Pavel took a deep breath and screwed up his courage, his hold on Scotty tightening slightly.

"Laddie, don't ya go saying something you'll regret…"

"I love you!" Chekov burst out, eyes clenched shut against the potential backfire of these words.

Scotty's eyes widened in shock, and he was quick to deny the truth of Pavel's words. "No ya don't. You're just confused right now, Pavel, what with what we've been talking about and –"

"Nyet! I love you! Я люблю тебя! I have alvays loved you Meester Scott. For a long time I have known this."

Scotty's heart pounded and his thoughts raced. Could this be true? Could it possibly be that the beautiful, wonderful, intelligent, talented young man could love _him_? Montgomery Scott?

"Pavel…" Scotty whispered, his expression softening. Pavel looked up at him, and an understanding passed between them. Both leaned in for a kiss; this time it was soft, tender.

"I love ya too," Scotty confessed into Chekov's ear. I have loved ya since I saw the glee on your face when I explained my theory of transwarp beaming. I cannae get enough of you. I always want to be with you – to be bathed in the glow of your ever-present cheer. You're my favourite person in the universe, Pavel."

"Call me Pasha."

"Pasha… that's adorable," Scotty said with a grin. "Call me Monty."

Chekov peered up at his love through blonde lashes. "Monty?" he asked. "I have never heard you called zhat."

"It's what my family calls me."

When Pavel beamed, it seemed as if he radiated pure joy, and Scotty could not help but kiss him senseless. Pavel may have been inexperienced, but he was nothing if not enthusiastic. Scotty did not think he had ever been kissed with such a heady fervor. His Pasha copied whatever he did, and tried everything he thought Scotty might enjoy.

As their tongues slid slickly against each other, Scotty was frankly awed by the fact that this beautiful creature could ever want him. Pulling away at last to breathe, Pavel noticed he had somehow climbed into Scotty's lap and pushed him up against the wall. Leaning down to attack his lover's neck, Pavel ground his hips down on Scotty's arousal, which had just begun to twitch to life.

"Och, lad! You'll kill me. You really want to?"

"Da, of course, Monty. But, if I kill you, you vill die happy." Chekov grinned wickedly and pulled Scotty into another searing kiss.

When Pavel reached down and started to unfasten Scotty's pants, Scotty mumbled, "Mmmmh, Pasha, you're not exactly innocent in the ways o' things, are ya?"

"Just because I have never had sex does not mean I do not know vhat I am doing. It is silly to embark on any endeawor without doing zhe proper… research."

Scotty almost laughed, but ended up groaning instead as Chekov tugged open his pants and took him in hand. Tangling his hands in Chekov's sandy curls, Scotty crushed his mouth to the younger man's. "Clothes off. Now," Scotty gasped out between kisses, pushing Pavel down to lie on his bed.

Pavel didn't really need encouragement. He pulled off his shirt a second later, and then immediately began to fumble with the draw string on his pajama bottoms. Scotty drank in the sight of the half-naked youth, all lithe, lean muscle and pale expanses of unblemished skin. Scotty had the fleeting thought that this was all a dream. But, if it was, he was sure as hell going to enjoy it. Chekov struggled a bit with his pants, but soon they were across the room with the rest of his clothes, and he was completely bare.

Scotty stared. "God, you're beautiful."

Pavel smiled shyly and laughed, saying playfully, "Shut up."

"Why don't ya make me?"

Pavel did. He kissed like he did not need to breathe. Perhaps he didn't. Scotty felt like he himself would cease his respiratory functions entirely if only he would never be parted from his Pasha.

"Monty, _milyy_, I vant to see you," Pavel said when he had sufficient air in his lungs, tugging up the hem of Scotty's shirt.

Scotty blushed more deeply than he had in a very long time, looking at the gorgeous thing beneath him. "No, ya don' want to see me shirtless, Pasha. I'm not the best lookin' fella – "

Pavel interrupted. "Off," he commanded curtly, and peeled Scotty's shirt off himself. Slowly, the blonde beauty kissed Scotty's neck, collarbone, and down his chest murmuring, "I love you, Monty. I_ vant_ to have sex vith you. I love you. I vant you inside me. Vant to feel you. Vant you to fuck me so hard."

Hearing those filthy words fall from those perfect lips, Scotty's stomach lurched and his cock thickened with want. He released a strangled groan and kissed Chekov with all his might. After kicking off his pants and underwear, he shoved Chekov to lie beneath him. They kissed languidly this time, wetly sucking at each other's mouths. When they broke the kiss, a trail of saliva connected their mouths.

"Do you have stuff?" Scotty asked.

"In zhe bedside table."

Scotty leaned over and grabbed a condom and the bottle of lube from the drawer. When he returned to his young lover, Pavel was already lying ready for him, legs spread. "Take me zhis vay. I vant to see your face."

"Oh, lord, I won't ever be able to resist ya, lad," Scotty groaned desirously. "Here, now just relax. It might hurt a bit."

Scotty snicked open the bottle of lube and slathered his fingers liberally. Gently, he prodded at Chekov's pink hole, and slowly pushed a finger in. Pavel moaned breathily, and Scotty moved in and out bit, letting his lover adjust to the intrusion.

"Aiiee, Da, Monty, I can take another."

Scotty obeyed, more desperate for his Pasha ever moment, and slid another finger inside the teenager's velvet heat. Gently, he stretched Pavel, scissoring his fingers and thrusting them in and out. Then, crooking his slick digits just at the right angle, he brushed Pavel's prostate. Chekov gasped and shoved himself down on Scotty's fingers.

"Ahh, fuck me, Monty! Now, now! Can't vait for you!"

"But you're not rea– "

"Now!"

Scotty was in no position to argue. Impatient, he fumbled with the condom packet and, hands shaking, rolled it on, and slicked himself with lube.

"_Monty_," Pavel whined insistently, his head falling back on the pillow, tired of waiting. So, obligingly, Scotty positioned himself at Chekov's entrance and slowly sheathed himself in the throbbing heat of his lover's body.

As deep as he could go, Scotty stilled for a moment and looked into his Pasha's impossibly blue eyes, dark with lust and dazed with pleasure. Chekov leaned up to kiss him lightly. "Ahhh, Monty, love, move now."

It took all of Scotty's control not to pound immediately into Pavel's taught body, but he managed to gently rock his hips against his love's. That is, until the Russian boy demanded he move faster.

"Harder, Monty. Da! Da, that is good!" Scotty found Pasha's sweet spot, and he angled himself to hit the bundle of nerves with nearly every thrust. Chekov was soon reduced to a litany of high-pitched whines, and when Scotty reached down to stroke him in time with his thrusts, he came hard into Scotty's fist.

Muscles contracting deliciously around him, Scotty followed Pavel over the edge and collapsed onto his flushed, hard body, panting. With a slow groan, Scotty slid out of his young lover and lied face down on Pavel's sheets, completely fucked out. When he regained enough energy to move, he sat up and rolled off the condom, throwing into the nearby trash receptacle.

Pavel, still flushed, glowing, and covered in his own cum, leaned over to kiss Scotty. Their lips moved calmly against each other, sealing their act with love. Pavel nuzzled Scotty's forehead and pressed a kiss to his temple before standing. He fetched a washcloth from the bathroom and returned to wipe away the mess they'd made. Then, completely content, Pavel snuggled under the covers of his small bed and pulled Scotty to him. Silently, they cuddled, taking comfort from the solid warmth of another body by their sides. They lied there, breathing in each other's scents, until they drifted off to sleep.


End file.
